Life has a funny way of throwing unexpected things your way, doesn’t it?
For one reason or another it seems sometimes our plans just don’t work out. Fall through. Fall apart. Sometimes they land in pieces at our feet. Sometimes you can put them back together, but sometimes you can’t. So you take a step back, take a peek at your map and reroute.
I feel like I’ve been rerouting a lot lately.
A year ago, I wanted to be pregnant or delivering a baby by now. I wanted an October baby, preferably a girl but any healthy child would be perfect. Reroute. New path. I got a dog instead, and truthfully, she’s more work than a newborn and signigicantly more expensive, too!
A year ago, I planned on moving to Halifax now. I didn’t have to reroute, just choose a new exit. Different destination. Longer drive.
|This will always be my destination.|
It’s both exasperating and relieving, wonderful and heartbreaking the way our paths can change, crumble beneath our feet or keep on going for miles and miles into the unknown. It’s unsettling and unnerving sometimes, but it’s almost always worth the worry and the care.
A year ago, I thought I would have someone to share the load of parenting, finances and responsibility along the winding little path of life. I don’t, so I carry it alone, holding a little hand along the way.
Sometimes I fall down and get right back up, full of mud and promise… but sometimes I make mudpies while I’m down there.